Apples, Murder Boards, and Old Friends
by allthingsnerd
Summary: It had taken him a long time to stop eating fruit with his knife. But occasionally, occasionally he let his paranoia get the best of him once more. Final story in the "Yessir" 'verse.
1. Chapter 1

Castle sat in his office, staring at his murder board. It didn't make sense. They had been here over 20 years, why was it coming to a head now? The clues went nowhere, nothing fit. The murder board, far from complete, was like having pieces of many different puzzles trying to fit together. He ran his hand over his face, knowing he was going to get no further without food and rest.

Castle got up and left his office, closing the door behind him. The house was empty, with Alexis at college and his mother most likely out with friends. He shook his head and headed towards the kitchen. He needed something to eat. He opened the fridge and grabbed an apple. He held the fruit in his hand and stared at it. Time was, these were hard to come by and it was a real treat eatin' one. Out of instinct he opened up the knife drawer, but hesitated.

It had taken him a long time to stop eating fruit with his knife. But occasionally, occasionally he let his paranoia get the best of him once more. He picked up a knife and carefully, _very_ carefully cut into the apple.

_**TBC**_


	2. Chapter 2

A man, a very peculiar man stood in the penthouse, overlooking the New York City view. The man held a glass of scotch in his hand, seemingly very pleased with himself. He smiled, after years of waiting; he finally was in a position to take down Malcolm Reynolds and all he held dear. The pieces were already set in motion. Reynolds was less paranoid, less prepared, and less watchful what with years of pampering and 'writing'. All he needed to do was sit back and watch Mal burn.

The man smiled, sipped his scotch and chuckled. Captain Malcolm Reynolds' day was coming and he didn't have a clue. Yes, revenge is sweet.

The man's thoughts were interrupted when a beautiful redhead sashayed in and draped her arm over his shoulders. His only acknowledgement of her presence was a quick glance in her direction.

"You know… Sir, you really should tell me your name." She shot him a smoldering look, "makes a girl intrigued to know a man," she paused, "and not his name."

He chuckled; he too could play this game. "I'm impervious to you my dear. A man's name is important, but can also be a tool used against him. Just as you don't give me your 'true name,' I shall not give you mine, Delilah."

Delilah looked at him, "and if I gave you mine?"

"Truly, I wonder if you even remember it. And no, if by some off chance you did actually provide me with your real name, you would still not know mine. Now! Have you completed your job?"

Delilah pouted and stepped away from her current boss, "Yes. It is done."

"Good." He drew out the word. "And he didn't say anything?"

"No."

"Very good. That is all I need from you."

She turned to leave, "Call me when you need me again. For anything." Her last words were filled with innuendo but the man ignored it.

He smiled into his glass, then set it down. "No, my dear, I'm afraid you don't understand."

Delilah didn't even have time to turn in shock when she heard the click of the gun. Her body crumpled to the floor as the bullet pierced her heart.

The nameless man holstered his gun, picked up his scotch, and downed it. He stood over her body, "that was _all_ I needed from you."

Delilah's lifeless eyes stared upward as the man left the penthouse before the owners got home.

_**TBC**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**AN: Not too sure how happy I am with this one, but… it'll do for now…**_

_**Also, there is a poll up on my profile, if you all would be so kind as to check that out. And since I forgot in the first two chapters: **_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Castle or Firefly.**

Though not tired, Castle left his kitchen after throwing his apple core away, to attempt to get some sleep. He had nearly made it to his room when the ringtone he had assigned to Beckett pierced the quiet.

"Beckett? Don't you know that normal people are usually asleep at this time of night?"

"Castle, whoever claimed that murderers were normal people?"

He smiled, "If that's your opinion, I shudder to think of your opinion of me as a writer and creator of murderers and their actions."

She snorted. "We've got a body, you coming?"

"On my way."

Firefly/Castle

The famous writer made his way up the elevator of an extremely grand apartment building, holding two coffees. Making his way to the penthouse, he spotted the rest of his "team."

Handing over one of the coffees, he whistled, "Veeeerrry swank place! Though hardly any nooks and crannies for laser tag and hide n' seek, but well, not every place can be perfect."

The other three scoffed and turned away smiling. Castle turned to Lanie. "Hey Lanie."

"Hey Castle, glad to see you could make it." She faced Beckett, "single gunshot wound to the heart. Went completely through. The bullet is most likely in the wall over there."

Castle went over to the wall and after a moment shouted, "yup! Right here!"

"Any I.D?"

"None. And the owners of the place don't recognize her."

Castle turned to Esposito, "She didn't live here?"

"Nope. Seems like she was meeting another person here, she got shot, and he or she makes off."

Castle leaned over the body to get a good look at her wound. When his eyes made it to her face, he gasped in recognition.

"Castle, you know her?"

He breathed out and after a long minute of silence, he quietly whispered.

"…Yosaf Bridge."

_**TBC**_


	4. Chapter 4

"Yosaf Bridge?" Beckett's voice was incredulous, "Castle, what does the corrupt Mossad agent in _'Unholy Storm'_ have to do with this dead woman?"

Richard Castle was uncharacteristically quiet. He turned to Lanie, still somewhat in shock. "You're sure she's dead?"

Lanie looked at him, "She was shot through the heart, Castle. There was no way she could have survived. I'm sorry."

Castle stared at the body of the woman he knew as memories and emotions flitted across his face. After a minute or two he seemed to shake out of it. "Right! So... this isn't her place, so why was she here?" He walked around, making sure not to touch anything, but his eyes curiously inspecting every inch.

His friends all looked at each other and turned to watch him roam. Beckett spoke up.

"Hold on Castle. What aren't you telling us? Who is this woman?"

"I don't know."

"You _**don't know?"**_

Emotions played on Castle's face as he thought about what to reveal. He knew he couldn't reveal too much, especially since he didn't know she was on Earth-that-was or what she was doing here. He came to a decision. "I knew her in my past. I don't know her name." He held up his hand just as they were about to interrupt. "I first met her as Saffron, then as Bridget, and then met someone who knew her as Yolanda. Thus I called her Yosaff Bridge."

"So you named a character in one of your books after her? That's messed up, bro."

"What? It was a good name! Besides, it fit. Eerily, actually. Don't let her pretty face fool you. She was an accomplished thief and had no problem killing."

"So what you're saying is that she could have plenty of enemies who want her dead."

Castle nodded. "And that's all I know. She was something of a mystery. I can usually get a handle on people Kate, but this woman…" He trailed off. Beckett sighed and turned to the others.

"Ryan, Espo, track this woman down. I want to know her real name, everything about her, who she is. Check the complex's security cameras too. I want to know why she was in an apartment she didn't own. Check to see who was with her."

"On it." The two detectives acknowledged her and left the room.

"Castle, you and I are going to the hospital to find the owner of this penthouse: Dr. Peter Anderson."


	5. Chapter 5

The car ride to the hospital was unusually quiet. Though, Beckett mused, everything about this case was unusual.

"Castle?"

Her partner grunted and turned away from the window to look at her.

"You said the name fit. Yosaf Bridge. For the Mossad agent. Why?"

He snorted. "It _did_ fit. And I thought it was funny. Like I said before, I called her that because she never gave anyone her real name and the three names I knew her by were Saffron, Yolanda, and Bridget. She was a con artist, a good one. She liked to seduce men in order to get something from them. Women too sometimes. She'd prey on their sense of honor and courtesy. When she targeted me, she pretended to be a simple farm girl who was innocent to the ways of the world. Thankfully, it didn't work." He paused. "Never thought she'd end up here."

Beckett stared at him, "That's not everything, is it?"

"No, it's not. But that's all that is pertinent to this investigation. Nothing else matters." _Well, except for the part where she's from 500 years in the future._

Castle's voice had a tone of finality and Beckett realized she would get no more from him now.

She continued driving.

Firefly/Castle

"Doctor Anderson?" The blonde doctor turned from his patient at the sound of the nurse's voice.

"Yes?"

"There's a detective here to see you."

"Thank you Amanda. I'll be right there."

The doctor exited the examining room moments later.

"Doctor Anderson? I'm Detective Kate Beckett with the NYPD." She shook his hand. "And this is Richard Castle."

He looked at the both of them. "Pleasure. What can I do for you today, Detective?"

She pulled a photograph from her file. "We got a call from your housekeeper late last night," she showed him the picture. "This woman was found dead in your penthouse. Do you know her?"

He took the photo and shook his head.

"I've never seen her before. Dead? In my home? How? Why was she there?"

"We were hoping you could tell us, Doctor."

"I have no idea." The doctor grew more perplexed as his gaze switched from the two in front of him to the photo and back up again.

Castle spoke up, "I'm afraid we have to ask, but where were you and your wife last night, that you didn't discover the body yourselves?"

"I worked a night shift last night. I'm actually off soon and was going to head home. My wife has been out of town for a few days, visiting her parents. Can I go home or is it a crime scene?"

"You were both out? I'll bet our killer knew that. Convenient."

"I agree Castle," she turned to the doctor. "I'm afraid your home is still a crime scene but if you come down to the station, I'm sure we can work something out for you."

"Thank you."

Castle looked away as Beckett was wrapping up the conversation with the doctor and saw something out of the corner of his eye. Startled, he headed over.

"Castle?"

He didn't stop and said over his shoulder, "You go on Beckett. I'll only be a minute, I'll catch up."

He turned a corner and tapped the man he'd followed on the shoulder.

"Hello Simon."


End file.
